


Spiral Into Madness

by RichardGraysonPercyJackson



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anger, Attempted Murder, Beating, Brutal Murder, Character Death, Child Death, Child Murder, Fratricide, Heavily OOC, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd-centric, Kidnapping, Murder, Poisoning, Rage, Suicide, This is violent guys, Violence, this will hurt harder than cramps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 02:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20770940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/pseuds/RichardGraysonPercyJackson
Summary: It starts with an innocent and suddenly here Jason is, seated on his couch and planning out the very detailed murders of his own family





	1. It Starts With An Innocent

**Author's Note:**

> heed the tags, guys, this one is BAD

Jason wasn’t even sure what happened. How it happened. He’d always been mad at Bruce and the others, he  _ knew _ that. But that was controllable anger. It had never...it had never spiraled so far out of his control.

He breathed calmly, evenly, as he stared down at the body crumbled at his feet. Her blood was on his hands and bruises ringed her throat.

“Why?” he asked himself out loud. Of course, the empty alleyway didn’t reply and Jason lifted his head towards the rooftops above him, wondering why he was waiting for a shadow to descend upon him.

This woman...he didn’t even know her yet he’d killed her in cold blood. He’d been so fucking  _ pissed _ at something he couldn’t even remember, something that didn’t even matter, that he’d...killed her.

“That was easy,” he murmured quietly. His fingers twitched and he slowly turned to look towards the mouth of the alley when two drunken teens stumbled in.

“Yo man!” one of them slurred. “F-ck off, mkay?”

Jason blinked slowly as he pulled out his gun and aimed the barrel.

……………………

“Jason, we need to talk.”

“No names in the field, dickwing,” Hood murmured, turning from where he stood on the rooftop to find Nightwing approaching him. “What do you want?”

“Three bodies were found in Crime Alley two days ago.”

“And?”

“B thinks you killed them.”

Hood gave a sour laugh, shaking his head as his fingers itched to grab his gun and beat Nightwing to death with it.

“He thinks I killed every body he finds,” Hood replied. “Hell, I wouldn’t put it past him to believe I killed his parents.”

Nightwing’s face twisted down in a frown. “Is something wrong?” he asked gently.

“No,” Hood snapped.  _ Too fast, too fast, too fast.  _ His brain lectured him.  _ Fuck, you answered too fucking fast, now he’s never going to leave. _

_ He’ll leave if he’s dead. _

“No,” Hood repeated in a more even voice, glad his helmet hid any emotions and covered his face from his prying brother. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Nightwing’s fucking face was soft. “Jay, you know you can alwasy talk to me, right?”

_ Can’t if you’re dead. _

_ You’d be prettier dead. _

“Considering you never fucking shut  _ up _ about it, yeah I know,” Hood snapped, crossing his arms over his chest just so he wouldn’t do anything rash. Like strangle the acrobat.

_ He deserves a slower, far more painful death than suffocation. _

Nightwing’s face was still making that god awful expression that made him look like a kicked puppy so Hood shoved his own issues aside and forced himself to choose kind words.

_ He’s so fucking sensitive. _

“I know. Thank you, Nightwing. Nothing’s going on that I’m ready to talk about but if I ever want to, I’ll talk you you.”

_ I’ll kill you first. _

Nightwing’s lips ticked upwards. “Good,” he said. “And...the bodies?”

Hood scowled. “I didn’t kill them.”

_ Lies. But Nightwing trusts me. He’ll believe me. _

_ Idiot. _

“I didn’t think so,” Nightwing said. “B won’t believe me but I’ll try and keep him away. But he’s B, so-”

“So that’s next to impossible.”

_ I’ll kill him if I see him. _

Nightwing smiled. “Yeah, pretty much. I’ll do my though. You’ll take care of yourself, right?”

_ Myself and every other one of you fuckers. _

“Yep.”

…………………….

Jason was seated on the couch of his current safe house, elbows on his knees and fingers interlaced beneath his chin, staring intently down at his coffee table.

They had to die. All of them.

Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian, all of them had to die and Jason was going to make damn sure they knew  _ exactly  _ who killed them.

Not Red Hood. 

Jason Tood.

A number of guns and blades lay strewn around the living room but no one is getting those. Jason isn’t just going to shoot and stab them all to death. No, no, no that’s too Red Hood’s style. Not personal enough, not for Jason.

Everything’s personal now.

After spending probably too long, Jason finally decides what order they’re all going to die in. This has to be planned, it can’t just be shooting them in the face the next time he sees them. 

It has to be planned. It’s going to be planned.

Bruce will die last, he’s decided. It started with Bruce, it has to end with him. It’s only last.

With that settled, there’s still the matter of the golden child and his two puppets. Jason ground his teeth together at the thought, digging his nails into the back of his hands as his vision fades to green.

But he can’t fuck this up. He  _ can’t _ . He will not go in, guns blazing. 

It has to be planned. It will be planned.

…………………………..

Four hours later, Jason’s made his choice regarding order. Method he has yet to even think on but at least for now, he knows the order. He was going to go from least to most infuriating.

It wasn’t going to be that way originally, ubt if Jason killed Dick first the way he had originally intended, Damian would come after him and that would make everything so much harder.

So he’d start with Damian. Something simple to keep the other’s off his trail. Damian would be the only one to get a quick and mostly painless death. After all, Jason had no personal vendetta against him, not like he had with everyone else.

He’ll stage Damian’s death to look like...fuck, no, random mugging won’t work. He’s Damian for fucks sake.

Another idea came to mind and it was...innocents would die and it couldn’t be directly by Jason’s hand but Jason would order it and that would be enough.

Damian would die in a school shooting. It happened often enoguh in America and it wouldn’t be a surprise that a school like Gotham Acadamy for rich brats like Damian would become a target.

Damian decided, Jason made a mental note (nothing could be written down in case someone found it), jason moved on.

Tim would be next. He was Jason’s replacement, he  _ wanted _ into this life, Jason knew  _ exactly _ how Tim was going to die.

Just like he had.

This one, he could do by his own hand. It wouldn’t be hard to dress up like the Joker, make an appearance enough for Bruce to  _ think _ it was the joker, and kidnap little Timmy away.

Jason would show the truth, who he really was. He’d beat tim with a crowbar for hours until the other could barely breathe.

And then he’d blow him up. And Bruce, liek the good litlte doggy he was, would go off and kill the Joker so Jason wouldn’t have to.

Jason actually had to take a cold shower after that, just tor relax his heart. It had started ounding in excitement at the thought and it was starting to hurt. After his shower, once he’d returned to the couch, he turned hi thoughts to the last ‘brother’.

Dickie Grayson, the  _ golden child _ . The one Jason had always looked up to and the one who had hated his fucking guts the most.

Dick’s death would be  _ personal _ and Jason was going to make  _ damn sure _ the Bat knew it was him. He  _ wanted _ bruce to know he was coming for him. After all, he would have figured it out by then once all his little soldiers were dead.

Dick’s death was personal so Jason was going to beat the fucking shit out of him. It was tempting to make him fall, make him look liek a suicide…

No, he still could. Jason was going to beat the shit out of Dick and then, when the golden son couldn’t fight back, he’d drag him to the roof and throw him off. He didn’t give a damn if the coroner said he hadn’t killed himself. The important part was that Bruce know it was him.

After all, B had cameras in Dickie’s apartmetn. Jason was going to give him positive ID and make damn sure Bruce knew he was coming.

Last would be Bruce and Jason was going to make sure he fucking suffered. No matter how long it took.

But he couldn’t do it in the manor. Couldn’t risk Alfred getting in the way, getting hurt.

He didn’t want Alfred hurt.


	2. Damian Wayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tood is the only acceptable sibling in this family, I swear,” Damian muttered. “At least he has the decency to make it clear to others when he dislikes them or wants them dead.”  
“Now Dami,” Dick murmured. “Jason’s just-”  
“Insane."  
“Jason is not insane.”  
“If Todd wanted us dead, Grayson, he could make it happen,” Damian said, taking a sip of his water. “And we would never know until it was too late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm posting more than one chapter a day because I don't want to take a week to post all six chapters.
> 
> So it'll be two or three days, I haven't decided if I'm posting half today and the other half tomorrow
> 
> Also, my college history professor said something in class that I thought applied perfectly to Jason in this story.
> 
> he said "when people are angry, they get organized"
> 
> And I mean, that's definitely Jason.
> 
> Anyway, on to the chapter

“You are absolutely  _ ridiculous _ , Grayson,” Damian snapped, arms crossed over his chest as Dick drove him to his first painting class that Dick  _ insisted _ on sending him to.

“Why?” Dick asked, laughing. “Because I’m driving you to an art class?”

“Because you’re making me go in the first place!” Damian declared. “Surely you know I am far better and more artistic than any of those morons,  _ including _ the so called teacher! I have been painting since I was a child and yet you still-”

“I really think you’re going to like it, Damian.”

“-insist on sending me!”

Dick sighed fondly, shaking his head as he pulled up outside of the building where the class would take place, cutting the engine and turning to face Damian.

“You need friends who are your age, Damian,” he said calmly. “And who knows. Maybe one of them will see how good you are and ask you to hang out with them.”

“Unlikely.”

DIck sighed softly, reaching over to place a hand on Damian’s shoulder.

“If I wasn’t worried about you never making friends your age, I wouldn’t send you,” he murmured.

Damian scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. After a moment, he looked at Dick out of the corner of his eye.

“Will I recieve ice cream upon completion of this day?”

Dick choked down a snort, knowing Damian was being serious. “Sure, Dami,” he replied. “When I pick you up, we’ll go get ice cream.”

“Then that is acceptable, I suppose,” Damian mumbled as he got out of the car.

“One last thing!” Dick called through the opened window.

Damian groaned loudly as he turned back around. “What?”

“I love you.”

Dick laughed as Damian stormed off.

……………………

Damian would reluctantly admit to  _ only _ himself that he did, in fact, enjoy himself.

“What did you think of the class?” Dick asked as the two of them sat at the picnic table, eating their ice cream since Dick  _ had _ promised.

Damian scoffed. “I suppose the instructor was a bit more competent that previously expected.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “So you enjoyed it?”

Damian scowled. “I did not say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Dick said with a smile. “I  _ know _ you. So are you going to go next week?”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Of course,” he replied, as though Dick should have already known that. “I have to finish my painting.”

“What are you drawing?”

“I suppose you’ll have to wait and see,” Damian replied as he stood and tossed his ice cream into a nearby trash can, already heading towards Dick’s car. “Well Grayson? Are you coming?”

…………………………..

“Damian, why don’t you tell Bruce about the painting class you went to?” Dick said with a bright smile.

Damian scowled, tightening his grip on his knife and looking as though he was debating the pros and cons of throwing it at Dick before he finally turned his attention to his diner.

“It was sufficient,” he replied.

“Dami said he enjoyed it.”

“I did not!” Damian shouted, much to the enjoyment of Tim who was smart enough to keep his laughter and smile hidden by getting a drink of water.

“It was  _ implied _ ,” Dick said with a grin.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Damian,” Bruce said before looking at Dick. “What did you do while he was there?”

“I spent the day with Jason,” Dick replied. “He’s seemed pretty distracted lately.”

“Tood is the only acceptable sibling in this family, I swear,” Damian muttered. “At least  _ he _ has the decency to make it clear to others when he dislikes them or wants them dead.”

“Now Dami,” Dick murmured. “Jason’s just-”

“Insane,” Tim muttered.

“Jason is not insane.”

“If Todd wanted us dead, Grayson, he could make it happen,” Damian said, taking a sip of his water. “And we would never know until it was too late.”

……………………..

“You feeling alright?” Dick asked as he came into Damian’s room early the next morning after patrol, both of them strained and exhausted.

“Fine,” Damian replied. “Simply tired.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Dick said, shaking his head and chuckling, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned heavily against the doorway of the bedroom. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I will be  _ fine _ ,” Damian replied. “I was not the one flung into the wall.”

Dick winced, back throbbing at the reminder. “Fair,” he said, nodding. “Get some rest, okay? And  _ try _ to sleep in like a kid your age. Tomorrow’s Sunday-”

“I shall not waste my day sleeping as you choose to do,” Damian said with a huff. “Good night, Grayson.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Good night, Damian.”

………………………

“Morning, Alfie,” Dick greeted, yawning as he stepped into the kitchen around noon the next day.

“Good morning, Master Richard,” Alfred returned while Bruce merely grunted as DIck took a seat next to him.

Tim nodded but mostly stayed quiet, leaning over his cup of coffee as though he could soak up the caffeine and wake up by sheer will.

“Where’s Damian?” Dick asked once he’d eaten a bit and woken up.

“I believe Master Damian is still in bed,” Alfred replied.

Dick frowned. “I know I told him to sleep in but I didn’t thin he was going to,” he mumbled. He shook his head. “I’ll go check on him in a few minutes.”

………………………….

“Dami?” Dick called once he’d gone back upstairs and gotten dressed. “Are you awake?”

There was no answer and Dick frowned, trying to ignore the feeling of unease growing in his belly. He reached down and tested the knob, slowly pushing it open.

“Dami?” he said softly as he came farther into the bed, recognizing the lump that was his brother. He walked over to the bed and stopped in his tracks, eyes going wide at the sight of his brother’s pale skin and blue lips.

“Damian!” he shouted, pressing his fingers to Damian’s neck. His heart seemed to stop when he failed to find a pulse.

He screamed and a moment later, arms were wrapping around him, pulling him away.

“No!” he screamed as Bruce and Tim and Alfred rushed in, the arms around him pulling him away.

“Dick, calm down!” Jason, that was Jason, said in DIck’s ear, pulling him aside while Alfred rushed off to call 911.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Dick whispered, clutching Jason’s arms as he watched Bruce look Damian over. “Bruce is he-”

Dick couldn’t say the final word and he felt faint, sagging against Jason’s chest when Bruce turned around.

“Bruce?” he whispered. “Is he…”

“He’s dead.”

Dick blacked out.

………………..

Two weeks later was Damian’s funeral and everyone was there.

Including Jason.

Jason, who was seated next to Dick, could feel the acrobat trembling, his face buried in Jason’s shoulder as he couldn't bring himself to look at the too young body in the casket.

If he’d known this was because of Jason, he wouldn't want to be touching the other. As it was, Jason merely held Dick close and gazed unfeeling towards the coffin. 

If Jason hadn’t known better, he would have assumed Damian had merely been sleeping. It was a painless death, at least, which was the only reason Jason didn’t feel any guilt.

Thought he doubted he would have had any guilt before. After the funeral, all of them in the car with Dick passed out against Bruce’s side, the billionaire spoke in a quiet voice.

“Did you kill him?”

It took Jason a moment to realize Bruce was talking to him. “What?” he finally asked.

“Damian,” Bruce repeated, finally looking over at Jason. “Did you kill him?”

Jason let out a breath. “You don’t  _ seriously _ believe that, do you?”

“Answer the question.

“Bruce, of  _ course  _ I didn’t!” Jason insisted, lying through his teeth. “What motivation would I have? Hell what motivation do  _ you _ have for asking that!?”

As the two of them watched each other, an odd look passed over Bruce’s eyes before he looked away, tightening his grip on DIck’s shoulders and only slightly pulling him away from Jason.

“Just a thought.”

_ He suspects you. _

_ Good. _

_He’ll be dead soon enough anyway._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know your thoughts!


	3. Tim Drake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Tim wants to follow in Jason's footsteps, then he's going to.
> 
> Every step of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More death, yay!
> 
> But this time, Jason's not the only one who kills someone...

Despite the fact that Jason was going through a set of pre-meditate murder plans, planning to take out every member of little Brucie’s family, he wasn’t heartless.

He knew they needed time to grieve before Bruce let his little puppets back out onto the streets.

So Jason waited three painstaking months and then some change for Red Robin to be on the street again and Joker out of prison.

Then he acted, kidnapping the Joker and storing him somewhere where he couldn’t be a problem. Then he dressed himself up like the freak, knocked his replacement out, then absconded with the boy to an abandoned warehouse.

He waited semi-patiently for Tim to wake and look at him. “Took you long enough, Replacement,” he drawled, flicking his cigarette to the ground and grinding it under his heel. He wasn’t dressed like the Joker but he’d made damn sure Tim thought that’s who had taken him. At least before waking up.

“Jason?” Tim asked, squirming. “What are you doing?”

“Relax, consider this some brother bonding time,” Jason replied as he walked over to the duffle bag he had seated on top of a few crates nearby.

“You hate me.”

“True,” Jason returned as he pulled out his weapon of choice. “But I think we’re going to have a _ smashing _time together,” he turned around with a crowbar in hand and a smile on his face, waiting for Tim’s eyes to go wide before he added, “It’s going to be a blast.”

He gestured to the side as he said that, heard Tim’s audible gasp when he saw the sitting bombs, waiting patiently for their master to activate them.

“Now tell me,” Jason purred as he stalked over. “Which hurts more? Forehand or backhand?”

It was almost cathartic to repeat the words Joker had said to him, to repeat them as he beat the ever loving shit out of his Replacement. The boy’s blood flecked his face one the crowbar broke skin and brought some of the liquid back with it each time Jason drew the weapon back.

Tim groaned and cried and shouted as he tried to squirm away but Jason was too fucking angry, too fucking fast, for him to get very far. Eventually he stepped back, taking a break.

“Jason,” Tim wheezed, curling in on himself as well as the restraints bunding his hands behind his back would allow. As far as his _ wounds _ would allow. “W-why are you doing this?”

“I want you dead,” Jason replied. “I want you _ all _ dead!”

Understanding clicked in Tim’s eyes as he whispered, “You killed Damian.”

“Not directly,” Jason corrected, tossing the crowbar back and forth between his hands and wondering why he ever settled for guns since a crowbar was so much more fun, so much more satisfying. “But I did poison his water, yeah.”

“You won’t get away with this.”   
  


Jason snorted, loud and inelegantly. “Dear boy, I’m pretty sure I already have.”

“You killed Damian,” Tim said quietly. “And you’re obviously going to kill me.” he looked back up. “Is Dick next?”

“What do you think?” Jason asked, sneering.

“Don’t hurt Alfred.”

Jason’s expression softened. “Alfred’s not on my list,” he replied. “But you are.”

He turned away from Tim then, striding over to the bombs and ignoring Tim’s shouts, his pleas.

“Do you know why I’m doing this?” Jason asked, turning back around. “Joker killed me and Bruce didn’t care. He _ replaced _ me with you! So I’m getting revenge. I killed Damian first and as painlessly as possible because my grudge isn’t with him. Next, I’m killing you the same way Joker killed me. You wanted into this life, kid. You wanted to take after me, well you’re going to. In _ every _ sense of the word.”

“Why all of us though? None of us did anything to you. Why not just Bruce?”

“You really don’t listen,” Jason said, shaking his head. “_ You _ were my replacement. _ Dickhead _ acted like he was better than me, never gave a damn. And _ Bruce _ is the problem to begin with! I started with Damian because he has no place in my war. I’m ending with Bruce because I want him to suffer by watching each and every single one of his sons die!”

He grinned as he stalked over towards Tim. “And you know what else? He thinks the Joker took you. Thinks the Joker _ killed _ you. So what does that mean?”

“You think he’ll kill the Joker?”

“He will.”

“He won’t.”

“We’ll see,” Jason retaliated as he walked back to the bomb. “Or...well, _ I’ll _ see. You’ve only got another minute to see anything at all.”

With a smile, he flicked the twitch to active the bomb before striding out of the room. 

……………..

From a safe distance, he watched as the warehouse went up in flames in what was surely a better explosion than Jason had gone out on. But what was even more satisfying was the batmobile he saw squeal up two seconds too late.

And when he saw Bruce rush inside, he waited with bated breath. And judging by the slow, trudging way the man walked as he carried the body out, he’d been too late.

Jason grinned.

…………………………..

He didn’t appear out of the blue, instead waiting for Dick to call him in tears and tell him he was afraid Jason was in danger. Calling him that Joker had killed Tim and Jason needed to come home.

So he did and he let Dick coddle and coo over him even though the urge to rip the other in half with a blade grew with each touch from the acrobat. 

The night before the funeral, Bruce and Dick went on patrol and when they came back…

“Is that blood?” Jason asked as he looked over Dick’s red spattered suit.

“He deserved it,” Dick whispered.

Jason frowned, looking over at Bruce. “What happened?”

Bruce did not reply. “You went too far, DIck.”

“What _ happened _?”

“I did what had to be done you asshole!” Dick screamed, “He killed Jason and then he killed Tim and what the _ fuck _ were _ you _ going to do!? Absolutely _ nothing _!”

Oh. Now Jason hadn’t seen this coming. He’d thought that maybe Bruce had cared more for Tim than he’d cared for Jason and as such, he’d killed the Joker.

He never could have _ imagined _-

“Did you kill the Joker?” he asked Dick, trying not to let his glee appear to obviously in his voice.

Dick scowled at him, though there was a hint of sorrow and regret in his eyes. “He deserved it,” he whispered.

He had. Jason just hadn’t expected _ Dick _ to be the one to kill him.

He was disappointed.

…………………………

Dick didn’t cry at Tiim’s funeral and Jason suspected it was just because he was too tired. Not because he didn’t love Tim but because he’d just lost two of his little brothers in the course of three months.

It was a little heartless, Jason knew. He was stretching Dick thin but that was the point. He needed Dick unstable and off guard so he’d be easier to kill.

It was actually kind of exciting, sitting there at Tim’s funeral and knowing the next time Bruce sat before a coffin, his golden son would be inside. Too bad Jason wouldn’t be able to attend. Unless…

Sitting there at his brother’s funeral, Jason found himself adjusting his plan. Originally, he’d been planning to beat the shit out of Dick in his apartment, using the hidden cameras to give positive proof to Bruce that Jason Todd was the one to best his golden child.

But now he wanted nothing more than to attend Dick’s funeral and see just how cold and stoic Bruce could remain. So he wasn’t going to kill Dick where cameras could see. He’d text Dick, ask him to come to the roof to have a talk.

He’d throw him off the roof then. Maybe strangle him a bit first, make him weak and woozy.

So excited was he, lost in his thoughts, that he never realized the funeral was over until Dick was touching his shoulder.

“Come on,” Dick murmured softly and Jason looked up to find the coffin had already been lowered into the ground. “Let’s go.”

And Jason did, eagerly. Because Dick’s death was next and his death would either shatter or strengthen Bruce.

And he really hoped it shattered him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts!


	4. Dick Grayson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re all the other has left, Dick, we should spend as much time together in case something happens.”
> 
> “Don’t talk like that,” Dick said. “We’re not going to die, Jason, Bruce is going to find the person responsible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure by the title that you know what's going to happen...

Something Jason hadn’t accounted for was how close Bruce was going to keep his favorite son after the deaths of Tim and Damian.

So it was no surprise that it took almost eight months before Dick was finally alone in his apartment. So Jason waited patiently on the roof, dressed in his Red Hood gear without the mask and helmet as he waited for Nightwing to return.

“Were you expecting me?”

He turned to find Nightwing approaching him, a frown on the older boy’s face. “I was waiting for you, yeah,” Jason replied, hands shoved into his pockets as he walked over. “How was patrol?”

“It was alright,” Dick replied slowly. After a long moment of silence, he whispered, “How are you holding up?”

Jason blinked. “What do you mean?”

Dick looked hurt. “It’s been almost a year since Damian died,” he replied softly. “And Tim died eight months ago. Are you doing okay?”

_ I’ve never cared for either of them, so I’m fine. _“I’m doing alright,” Jason replied. “What about you?”

Dick gave a weak, wet laugh and Jason knew he was going to start crying. “I’m okay,” he replied softly. “I just lost two of my little brothers over the span of three months because the world hates me but that’s...that’s fine…” he pressed his lips together. “Bruce doesn’t think it was the Joker.”

Jason’s heart picked up pace. “What?”

“He doesn't think the Joker killed Tim,” Dick repeated. “He thinks Damian was poisoned. That someone  _ hired _ someone else to poison him. He thinks the same person who posinted Damian-” his voice broke on the ame. “Dressed up like the Joker to kill Tim. Or hired the Joker to kill Tim.”

“Joker doesn’t do shit unless he wants to.”   
  


“True, I suppose,” Dick replied with a wet laugh.

“Why don’t you head in and get dressed,” Jason suggested suddenly. “Come back with some water. We’re all the other has left, Dick, we should spend as much time together in case something happens.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Dick said. “We’re not going to die, Jason, Bruce is going to find the person responsible.”

_ You mean _ I’m _ not going to die. _“Forgive me for having very little faith in him.”

Dick sighed softly, reaching up to brush a hand through his hair. “Let me get dressed,” he mumbled. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

……………………………

They were seated together on the edge of the roof and _ god _ Jason just loved how fucking trsuting Dick was.

His plan was perfect. They’d sit and talk, he’d confess, then he’d shove Dick off the building before the other even realized what was happening.

_ It’s not very violent. _

_ But it’s taking advantage of his biggest fear. _

“You okay?” Dick asked softly, drawing Jason out of his thoughts. “You seem...distracted.”

“No I...well, I suppose I am.”

“Is something on your mind?”

_ You have no idea. _“Yeah, I guess.”

Dick placed a hand on his arm. “Jay, you can tell me,” he murmured. “I’m your brother, remember?”

“Yeah, no, I know it’s just…” he faked a frustrated huff. “You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.”

_ Oh, I will. _

“I’m just...I’m so mad at Bruce for failing to save me and just...all I want is revenge.”

“I know the feeling,” Dick murmured. “But Joker’s dead, Jason.”

“I know,” Jason said. “But I want Bruce to suffer. So I made a plan.”

He felt Dick stiffen beside him. “What?”

“Damian had to die first,” Jason replied, turning to look at Dick, to watch all the emotions dance in those pretty blue eyes. “He’d be harder to kill if I took you out first, so Damian had to die first.”

Dick went pale. “Jason, what did you-”

“And Tim wanted to replace me so fucking badly, it was only fair that he die the same way I did.”

Dick let out a little sob, covering his mouth. “You killed them,” he whispered.

Jason smiled, an expression that would have seemed kind and gentle to anyone who hadn’t just heard the conversation.

“I did,” he replied innocently. “And you’re next.”

He grabbed Dick by the hair before the older could act, easily getting to his feet and crushing one of the acrobat’s hands beneath his boot. Dick barely had time to shriek in pain before Jason’s foot was against his back, shoving him off the roof.

Jaosn watched impassively, hands stuffed into his pockets, as Dick fell seven stories down, the people below screaming and pointing but doing nothing to help. 

Even as high as he was, Jason still heard the sickening crunch of bone as Dick slammed into the pavement below. He waited a beat to make sure the other wasn’t moving (how unfortunate would that be, Jason telling him his plan and then the idiot has the nerve to not die?) before he turned and made his way down the stairs.

………………………..

Bruce came to him a week later. “Dick is dead.”

Jason pretended to be shocked. “What? How?”

“He fell,” Bruce replied.

“His line broke?”

“Coroner thinks it was suicide,” Bruce replied. “He was in civies, it was off the roof of his apartment building.”

“Coroner thinks that,” Jason repeated. “But you don’t?”

Bruce grunted. “Dick wasn’t suicidal or depressed. He wouldn’t have done this, not so soon after Tim and Damian.”

“So what do you think it was?” Jason asked. “Murder?”

“Possible,” Bruce replied. “If Damian and Tim’s deaths were planned by the same person, it’s likely Dick’s was as well.”

“So it’s just us then,” Jason whispered, ignoring the excitement that pooled in his belly at the words.

_ Just like before. Just you and me. _

“Yes,” Bruce replied. He placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “We’ll find their killer, Jason. Nothing’s going to happen. I won’t let you die again.”

“We’ll find them,” Jason said with a nod. “No matter what it takes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts : P


	5. Bruce Wayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hit you where it hurts, didn’t I Wayne? You’ve got no one left but the fuck up. How must that feel, knowing you've failed not one but four sons? First me and then Damian and Tim and now your favorite.
> 
> How must that feel?
> 
> I hope it hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUICK NOTE!!
> 
> I want to apologize about Chapter Two: Damian Wayne.
> 
> I went too far and I can't even find words to explain why. All I can say is I'm sorry for the content in that chapter and I went to far.
> 
> So I have completely rewritten Chapter Two: Damian Wayne and changed smaller parts in chapter three and four to go along with it (nothing drastic)
> 
> I would advise reading the new chapter two but it's not mentioned again so it's up to you.
> 
> Again, I am very sorry

The funeral for Dick was quiet. The golden child was the favorite to so many that  _ both _ of his funerals - hero and civilian - were packed. Jason, Bruce, and Alfred sat alone in the front row and Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away from the body in the coffin.

_ Suck it, Grayson.  _ He thought to himself. On one side of him, Alfred was fighting back tears just as he had been at every funeral. On the other side, Bruce was stoically silent and if Jason didn’t see the tightness of his jaw, he would have assumed Bruce didn’t give a shit.

_ I hit you where it hurts, didn’t I Wayne?  _ He thought as they got in the car and made their way back to the manor.  _ You’ve got no one left but the fuck up. How must that feel, knowing you've failed not one but  _ four _ sons? First me and then Damian and Tim and now your favorite. _

_ How must that feel? _

_ I hope it hurts. _

“Jason, I want you to stay at the manor.”

Jason looked over at Bruce. “What?”

“You’re all I have left,” Bruce whispered and if Jason didn’t know any better, he might have thought Bruce actually  _ cared _ about him. “And until we catch your brothers’ murderer, I don’t want you out of my sight.”

“You think the same person killed all of them?”

“I know it.”

…………………………….

Bruce kept Jason painfully close over the next several months and Jason wasn’t sure if it was because he  _ suspected _ Jason or because he was trying to  _ protect _ Jason.

Both options were laughable, really.

They were seated at the dining table, Alfred very conveniently called away to England in the wake of a brother’s death (he’d only find out when he got there that his brother was alive and well, but he’d be gone long enough for Bruce to die) when Jason decided to make his move.

He picked up his knife under the guise of cutting his steak. Bruce’s hand was laying flat on the table -  _ idiot _ \- and Jason lunged, jamming the knife hilt deep into Bruce’s hand.

Bruce grunted and grabbed the hilt, his hand over top of Jason's as he looked up at the boy. If there was anything he expected to see, it probably wasn’t the madness Jason knew was in his eyes.

“Just you and me, old man,” he declared with a wide grin. “Just like old times, right?”

Bruce’s eyes hardened and his hand tightened over Jason’s. “You killed them.” it wasn’t a question.

“Damian’s was as quick and painless as I could make it,” Jason said. “My war isn’t with him.”

“Tim?”

“He wanted to replace me, he deserved to follow in my footsteps every step of the way,” Jason replied, letting out a small laugh that bordered on the edge of hysteria. “And originally, I was going to let you know _ I  _ was the one who killed Dick but I just wanted so damn  _ badly _ to go to his funeral that I pushed him off the roof instead.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “Which leaves me.”

“That start of it all,” Jason whispered. “Really, Bruce, this is your fault.”

“How?” his grip on Jason’s hand was bone crushing and Jason planted his feet, knowing Bruce was going to move very soon.

“Please don’t tell me that’s a real question,” Jason groaned. “You left me to die, Bruce. Dick was the favorite over me and then you replaced me with Tim. Admit it, you’ve never given a  _ damn _ about me. I was just some freak charity case. The street rat you took in out of the goodness of your-”

Bruce lunged for Jason’s throat with his free hand but Jason saw it coming, ripping the knife out of Bruce’s right hand and slashing at the man’s arm with it. But Bruce was stronger, was used to getting cut up, and his grip held tight as he stood and slammed Jason into the wall.

Jason growled, using his feet to catch Bruce in the chest and kick him back, sending the billionaire flying back into the dining room table.

“You should be thankful I sent Alfred away,” he drawled.

Bruce’s lip twitched. “That message from his family was from you.”

“He’s the only one who hasn’t hurt me,” Jason snarled as he charged.

………………….

He let down his guard.

He fucked up, let down his guard, and got too fucking close.

He’d gotten Bruce in the head with a vase and thought the man was down for the count.

_ Idiot! _

He never saw Bruce reach for the knife until it was sinking into the meat of his belly. Jason had gasped in pain, eyes going wide as his hands fluttered to the hilt but instinct kept him from pulling the weapon out.

He dropped to his knees with a groan, vision warping and fading though he knew he heard sirens nearby. He tasted bile and iron in the back of his throat and didn’t hold back collapsing forward, one hand clutching the knife hilt as he gagged and heaved onto Bruce’s carpet, the man standing nearby.

“You called the police,” Jason rasped through the pain, barely able to hear himself over the pulsing of his heart in his ears. “W-when?”

“I’ve got ways,” Bruce replied instead, kneeling down to carefully guide Jason to lying ont he floor while still keeping his own injured hand against his chest.

“The fuck are you doing?” Jason snarled one he was lying down.

“I’m saving your life,” Bruce replied calmly. He left for a moment to open the manor doors but he was back at Jason’s side seconds later.

“ _ Why _ !?” Jason demanded, whimpering at the twinge of agony that raced through the pierced muscles of his belly. He knew there couldn't be internal bleeding, knew Bruce would have been careful about that shit.

“I don’t kill.”

Jason snarled, trying to jerk up but finding himself stopped by the overwhelming and steadily growing pain in his belly. He dropped down with a quiet groan, fingers twitching around the hilt of the blade.

Before unconsciousness could claim him, Jaso managed to flip Bruce off before letting himself black out into painless oblivion.

……………………

His trial was short and sweet. Bruce revealed what Jason had told him and Jason, with all the cards stacked against him thanks to Bruce’s dumbass lawyer, confessed to it all.

He was sentenced to life in prison without parole and shipped off to another state where he would receive the death penalty.

Bruce never visited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts


	6. Jason Todd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you think I should have stayed dead?”
> 
> “Yes.”
> 
> “Would you have said that if I hadn’t killed the others?”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> \---------
> 
> AKA: Bruce and Jason have a heart to heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : )

Seated on death row, Jason spent most of his time alone. And time alone meant time to plan. He was scheduled for death about five years into his sentence.

If he was put in front of the firing squad, Bruce won.

If he got lethal injection. Bruce won.

But if he killed himself...if he killed himself, that was one final  _ fuck you _ middle finger to the old asshole.

So he bided his time and waited. Five years was nothing, not when you had a plan. About a week before his sentence was to be carried out, they asked about his last meal.

“I don’t want a last meal,” he told them. “I want a last request.”

And for some reason, they granted it.

He asked to see Bruce and two days later, he foud himself seated in from of the man. He hadn’t expected him to come at all. Why would he? Why grant a dying man his last wish? That was something Jason never could understand.

“Hello Bruce.”

“You wanted to see me,” Bruce said softly, calmly. “I’m here.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Maybe because I killed your sons?”

“You are my son.”

“My point still stands.”

“As does mine.”

They were getting nowhere and Jason was getting frustrated. So he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. They only had an hour and he had a few things he wanted to say first.

“I won’t say sorry, if that’s what you were expecting,” he said firmly.

“I wasn’t.

_ Fuck, why wasn’t I better at killing you? _

“How’s Alfred?”

“He misses you.”

“Bullshit.”

“You were his favorite, Jason,” Bruce said gently.

“Is he disappointed?”

Bruce looked like he didn’t want to tell the truth but he did anyway. “Yes.”

“Extremely?”

“Yes.”

“I saved his life.”

“No, you spared his life,” Bruce corrected. “There’s a difference.”

There was, so Jason dropped the subject. “Are you going to bring any of them back?”

“No.”

“Do you think I should have stayed dead?”

Bruce was quiet for a very long time. “Yes.”

“Would you have said that if I hadn’t killed the others?”

Another pause and the an answer so quiet, Jason was amazed he heard it. “No.”

Jason nodded. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Bruce frowned, surprised. “For what?”

“For coming,” Jason explained. “For allowing me my last request. You could have said no, could have flipped me off like I’ve done to you so many times.”

“But I didn’t.”

“You didn’t.”

Silence.

“Thank you.”

………………………

Twenty-four hours before his sentence is carried out, Jason is escorted to a solitary cell. It’s where he’s going to kill himself. It was tempting to kill himself in front of Bruce but there was too big of a risk for help to get there in time.

So he waits until he’s in the cell to pull down his pants and pull out the shiv. He’s not proud, but if there’s one place security guards don’t look for weapons, it’s between the buttcheeks of the inmates.

He checks out the small ass window he has on the door, making sure there’s no one in the hall and no one coming down before he steps back and places the blade to his throat.

“Fuck you, Bruce,” he whispered as he dragged the weapon across his skin.

……………………..

Jason doesn’t get a public funeral like the others. His body is shipped back to Gotham but he can’t have a public funeral like the others. No one in Gotham City gives a damn, they’re just glad the monster who killed their favorite boys is dead.

But Bruce mourns. Bruce and Alfred mourn. They bury his body back in his grave, next to his brothers’ in a makeshift funeral.

They’re the only ones in attendance.

…………………………….

Bruce blames himself and for once, Alfred agrees. If Bruce had saved Jason this never would have happened.

Four months after Jason’s death, Bruce visits Talia Al Ghul and asks her to describe the effects of the Pit. He refuses to believe Jason acted on his own and instead manages to convince even himself that Jason was acting under the influence of Pit Madness.

But Talia tells him it doesn’t work that way.

“When Pit Madness strikes, beloved, there’s no planning,” she told him gently. “When Pit Madness strikes, they strike as well. They’re beyond thought aside from rage. They feel  _ nothing _ except for anger. There’s no time to sit and plan out deaths and murders months in advance. They attack and kill whoever is closest in that moment and if no one is, they hunt someone down. There’s no planning.”

And Bruce knew that. He knew there was no way it was Pit Madness but he just...had to know. He needed confirmation, if only to settle his own thoughts.

Which means if it’s not Pit Madness it was just Jason, pushed to the edge. 

It was just Jason pushed to the edge because of Bruce.

“This is my fault,” Bruce said quietly, standing before the Red Hood suit in display where Jason’s Robin suit once was. Only this time it’s not alone. Nightwing, Robin, and Red Robin’s suits are there as well.

“Sir...” Alfred murmured.

“If I had saved him, he wouldn’t have been so angry,” Bruce said, balling his hands into fists. “He wouldn’t have killed his brothers to get to  _ me _ .”

“I don’t believe that’s true, sir,” Alfred said.

“So what then!?” Bruce bellowed, turning to glare at the butler. “You’re saying he would have killed them either way!?”

“Master Jason always was very angry, even long before he became Robin,” Alfred said softly. “Taking in Master Jason caused a rift between him and Master Dick which is why he killed Master Dick.”

Bruce turned away. He didn’t say anything, wanted Alfred to stop, but at the same time some part of him needed to hear this.

So he kept listening.

“Taking in Master Timothy, even if Master Jason had lived, would have caused that very same rift that stood between Master Jason and Master Dick,” Alfred went on.

“He would have killed them anyway,” Bruce whispered. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“We can’t know for sure, sir,” Alfred said softly.

“He would have killed them anyway.”

Alfred knew that once Bruce had his mind set on something, it was very difficult to get him to let go. But if this was the only way to convince Bruce that it wasn’t his fault, even if that meant saying Jason had been a lost cause from the beginning, then Alfred was intent to let it go.

……………….

“What now, sir?” Alfred dared to ask a few months later.

Bruce stood silent before the memorials of his sons. “No more,” he said firmly. “I won’t take on anymore. I will not let anyone else into this life ever 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never said it was going to be a happy ending...
> 
> Also wow, I actually finished a story!
> 
> Although Dick Grayson: Raised By Pamela Isley and Harleeen Quinzel (gotta change that name) and Monsters' Sacrifice are reaching their ends too.
> 
> Anyway, let me know your thoughts!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know your thoughts!
> 
> This is a six chapter work!
> 
> And as you read, let me know if I need more tags


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